Lost Signal
by Diamond1502
Summary: What do you do when your last chance of survival is destroyed? What do you do when a new beacon of hope is taken away? What do you do when the possibly last innocent sparkling is taken by the Decepticons? What do you do…. Sparkling OC. Rated T for possible language and violence. Movie-verse. Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there and thank you for giving this story a chance :) I do realise I have used a somewhat overused plot here, but I am going to make it as original as possible.  
I feel as if I have made a load of mistakes so if you do spot one please, _please_ tell me. Also, if you find something that makes you want to hit the back button please do tell me and I'll try to correct it to the best of my abilities.**

**Enjoy.**

**Word Count: 2,475**

* * *

**Lost Signal**

Chapter I – The Pod

The small pod hurtled through space, as it had been for many years since it had been ejected from the launching pad from whence it originated from. The occupant inside the small pod was frozen in stasis lock until the pod arrived at its predetermined destination. Red light began to dance inside the metal pod and the small being inside began to stir.

The pod gentle glided into the solar system that was running parallel to it. It headed straight towards a smaller blue and green planet, passing several larger gas planets. The signal that the pod was following originated from the small planet.

Time meant nothing to the pod as it shot across the solar system; flashing more lights at the occupant. The blue and green planet getting closer and closer, and before long the pod had entered the planets orbit. The twin side engines on the pod turned 180 degrees and increased their output to maximum to slow the pods decent. To the natives of the planet the pod may have been mistaken for a shooting star as it shot across their night sky, while others may have seen it as it was and claimed it was a UFO.

It wouldn't be long now until the pod reached its destination. By now the being inside was in a drowsy state of mind; not quite awake but not asleep either. A strong gust of wind shook the pod, making the creature inside the pod rattle around. The little being gave out a quiet drowsy distressed squeal as it hit the walls of the metal cocoon that surrounded it. It continued to squeak and squeal when it was suddenly strapped into place; it was confused, what was going on? More lights flashed on the monitor in front of it. It closed its eyes and squealed and squirmed with more vigour. Sudden impact made it stop squealing as it jerked in its harness, there was a feeling of falling again before another impact. Then it was just rolling until the pod was gently stopped by something.

* * *

Jazz knew it was suicide to face off against Megatron. While he may have been one of the top saboteurs in Spec. Ops, he had no chance against him based on sheer size alone. But he had to do something to help the others fall back to a safer distance. Raising his right arm, Jazz shot, hitting Megatron in the shoulder. The shot hardly did any damage, small chips of Megatrons armour flew off into the air leaving a small section of shoulder armour slightly burnt. The hit didn't seem to faze Megatron at all as he swung his arm round, transforming it into a gun as he went, shooting the ground just in front of Jazz and sending him flying. The shot and impact to the ground left most of Jazz's armour plating dented and damaged. He tried to get up, ignoring his bodies protesting, only to fail and slump back to the ground.

Megatrons lumbering footsteps got closer by the second, Jazz tried to get himself up again and actually made it to get onto his servos and knees, albeit a little shaky. That small victory was cut short when Jazz was scooped into Megatrons clawed servos and the ex-gladiator took to the air. The grip on Jazz was tight; the tips of the tyrants' claws pierced into the saboteurs' abdominal armour causing energon to spill from the small wounds. Jazz tried to escape the death grip, but only succeeded in embedding the claw tips deeper into his body. He was then thrown into the air spinning, for a second Jazz thought he would have been able to get away using one of his grappling hooks. That thought was soon cut short when his back hit the top of a clock tower and the immense weight of Megatrons foot pinned him to it.

"That all you got, Megatron" He taunted, if he was going to go out like this, might as well do it with style.

"Come here, little cretin." Megatron growled as he leant down to grab Jazz by the leg and brought him up.

As a last resort Jazz shot at Megatron wherever he could, while shouting.

"You want a piece of me? You want a piece?"

Megatron held Jazz in both of his servos, bringing them further apart from each other. Jazz could feel the pressure increasing in his midsection. Cables and small armour plate snapped and broke.

"No! I w–" Megatron had started, getting ready to separate the Autobots upper body from his lower body, he could feel the Autobot slowly tearing apart in his servos. He was about to give one last mighty pull when he stopped by a large-ish metal object hitting him in the side of the helm and bouncing off. With a dazed look he watched the object fall to the ground and roll, he just watched it, trying to figure out _why _it looked familiar. He stared at it for at least a minute, in which time his grip on Jazz had significantly loosened and the saboteur, not wanting to push his luck, had slipped away to the 'safety' of the other Autobots fighting off the rest of the Decepticons. Megatron, still in his semi-dazed condition, stared at the offending metal object. It was too smooth for a piece of space junk, and then it gradually hit him. The hunk of metal was of Cybertronian nature, more specifically an escape pod. A Decepticon escape pod. A Decepticon escape pod that had been made during the war. Why the frag was there an escape pod and why had it hit him directly in the helm?

_No, _He thought shaking his helm; _I don't have time for this. Once the Autobots and their useless fleshy allies are destroyed I shall look into this further. _And with that Megatron left his perch and re-joined the battle; chasing after the fleshling that had _his _Allspark.

* * *

While the battle raged around it the Cybertronian inside the escape pod fully woke up. The harness that had been holding it mobile retracted making it fall from above and into the ground face first. The soft malleable that made up its face dented inward from the impact of the fall, the small Cybertronian gave out whimpers of pain and tried to, at least, flip itself over. It failed several times as its arms just weren't capable of lifting its full body weight yet, but it eventually got there by grabbing several bunches of wires sticking out around the inside of the pod. It landed heavily on its sensitive, still developing wing nubs, making it cry out in pain and tears to form in its optics. It gave out a shrill squeak. Then a longer louder squeak. It gave a final ear-piercing scream until its vocal processor burnt out and began sparking. The small Cybertronian just lay there; unable to do anything else. The walls of the small pod felt like they were closing in as claustrophobia kicked in; small arms and legs flailed around it an attempt to get out of the constricting space. Extreme panic set in after the realisation that it couldn't get out. Before long it was too much for the young systems and safety programs sent the being into stasis lock before it caused any serious damage upon itself.

* * *

For the rest of the battle and the few hours of clean up after it, the pod was forgotten about; left beneath a pile of rubble and debris. It lay undisturbed until its section of the city was swept through. The streets were cleared to certain extent, rubble and debris were shoved to the side to allow proper clean up units access. Both Humans and Cybertronians helped with this task, minus those who were injured and the medics who were tending to said injured. While it was mostly the Cybertronians doing the heavy work, the humans tried to help all they could even if was just pointing out piles of debris and moving smaller piles with their vehicles. As a large piece of concrete was picked up by Ironhide, a smooth hunk of metal the size of a small car slowly rolled in a semi-circular motion from under the pile and stopped after gently bouncing off a piece of rubble with a small _clink._ Soldiers slowly approached the foreign object with guns raised. Several minutes were spent like this, before the guns were lowered.

"What the hell is this?" A soldier by the name of Graham said aloud as he stepped forward and tapped the metal object with the butt of his gun.

"That," Ironhide rumbled from behind the group, "is an escape pod from Cybertron." He stepped forward and went down on one knee to inspect the pod in more detail.

"You mean there's another one of you guys in there?" A soldier next to Graham exclaimed.

"Should be. If there is someone in there it'd have to be a minibot considering the pod size. Now if I could just get this turned over I should be able to open it."

Ironhide gently turned the pod over, slowly unveiling the Decepticon insignia engraved into the metal. The soldiers who were close enough to see the insignia jumped back and raised their guns, ready for any attack from the pod. Ironhide had stayed rather relaxed while the soldiers had tensed up, which raised a few eyebrows.

"Why aren't you doing anything? There's a Decepticon right in front of us, and we've seen what they can do!" A soldier shouted up at the Autobot.

"Don't underestimate me human. If there was an actual threat you'd know it by now. Besides if the Decepticon inside was bent on destroying us, don't you think they would have done something by now?" He answered. "And the life signal inside is rather weak, so our 'Con in there is either still asleep or dying; preferably the second one."

Gently sliding one of his fingers through the centre seam of the pod, Ironhide hit several switches activating the opening sequence for the pod. The pod gave out a low hiss and released a cloud of steam before the metal plates folded away revealing the occupant inside. The soldiers backed up when Ironhide gestured for them to do so. Once the steam had cleared the Autobot had a better look at the 'Con inside. What he saw truly shocked him; he tried his hardest at not conveying it through his body language and facial expression, and succeeded. Inside the pod was a little protoform-grey youngling, barely out of its sparkling stage from what he could gather. As much as the Autobots trusted their new human allies, it would be for the best if they didn't find out about the youngling yet lest another group like Sector Seven pop up again and held the young one hostage. Ironhide closed up the pod and stood up gently bringing it with him.

"So?" One of the humans asked expectantly.

"Dead." Ironhide simply answered before walking away towards the other Autobots. Several of the soldiers visibly relaxed at the statement and went back to clearing as much of the rubble as they could. Ironhide carried the pod over towards where Ratchet had set up his impromptu medical area and was currently working on Bumblebees legs. Jazz sat leaning against a semi destroyed building, fresh welds peppered his midsection. Optimus was off to the side talking with some of the human officials.

"Hey Ratchet, got a present for you." Ironhide called out to the medic. Said medic looked up from the intricate circuitry of Bee's leg and sighed.

"Can it wait?" He grumbled.

"_Not unless you want to leave a Decepticon sparkling damaged and in stasis lock._" He replied in their native tongue.

"_A-a sparkling? Where in the pit did you find it!?_"

"_An escape pod; must have landed while we were fighting_"

"_Primus. I'll finish up on Bumblebee and I'll take a look._"

"I think it would be best if we wait for Prime to find us somewhere to stay first, which by the looks of things shouldn't be too much longer. Here you go Bee, no need to look so shocked." Ironhide said reverting back to English. He handed the pod over to the wide eyed Bot and then went back to clearing the rubble.

Sam witwicky, who had watched the interaction between the bot from the human medical area walked up to his guardian a few minutes later.

"What was that about?" He asked no one specific. Bee gave a few beeps and what could be passed off as shrug without moving too much. Without looking up from the repairs he was doing Ratchet answered the young human.

"Ironhide found some Decepticon equipment and he was simply explaining what it was to me in our native language."

"Huh. So when will Bee be on his legs again?"

Ratchet didn't answer for a few minutes before standing up and stepping back, he looked directly at Bumblebee.

"Right, you should be able to move around now no faster than a walk and when you transform take it slowly; I don't want you tearing those welds" The medic dismissed the scout. Bumblebee, using his radio, signified that he understood the order. He stood up and wobbled on the spot, clinging to Ratchet while his sensors recalibrated themselves and he found his balance again. He walked around a little bit getting used to having legs again before scooping up his charge and went off to find Mikaela, wherever she had gone off to.

The medic gently picked up the escape pod and ran several scans over it and confirmed that there was indeed a sparkling in there, but he stilled need to give it a proper examination, which will have to wait until they're away from the humans. Keeping hold of the pod he walked over to Jazz and gave him a quick check over confirming that his repairs were going to hold.

"I'm going to assume you heard Ironhide earlier, so out little friend here is your responsibility for now. If your injuries start causing you _any _pain at all I want you to call me alright. I'm going to be helping out with the rubble clearing; the sooner that is done, the sooner we can get out of here." Ratchet mumbled as he walked off towards one of the clean-up groups.

Jazz looked down at the metal pod with smirk.

"Hey there lil' buddy. Ya' saved mah life, guess I owe ya' don' I. I'll jus' have ta be ya' bestest buddy alright."

With that he his servo and placed it on top of the pod, and went off humming some tune while he watched the others work.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Reviews would be nice, but I'm mainly doing this for my own entertainment. Next update will be whenever I get time to write up the next chapter.**

**If anyone is worried about how this story is going to progress, I am more than happy to answer yes or no questions. **

**Thank you :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone... I apologise for the huge wait for this chapter and I don't really have any good excuses as for why it took this long other than school, didn't feel like writing and yeah... **

**Thank you for all of the Favourites, Follows and Reviews, they were all really appreciated :)**

**Please enjoy, and if you do spot something that wants to make you hit the back button please tell me what it is. **

Word count: 3,422

* * *

Chapter II – Good morning?

Hard and flat. She was definitely lying on something hard, flat and _really _cold. She felt her systems online themselves, beginning with auditory.

"…aside from low energon levels, we have a little healthy femme-ling door-winger. Ah, look she's beginning to come online."

Motor controls came back online next; she stretched her limbs trying to rid them of ache that had settled in them from lack of use. Finally, her piercing red optics blazed online taking in the sight of the three blue-optic mechs helms hovering above her. Bad. Very, very bad. Blue optics are bad. Blue optics destroyed home. With tiny clawed servos she tried to swipe at the blue optics above her, slightly hurting herself in the progress.

"_**Get away from me!" **_she shouted in the only language she was familiar with.

The yellow blue-optic mech gently grabbed her limbs with one of his servos. She cried out for her creators with frantic clicks and squeals, she reached through her creation-creator bond crying for help. She couldn't reach very far through the bond before meeting a wall of sorts, her creators would sometimes put up a block like this. She gently pushed against the barrier, nothing happened, she tried again only much harder, but still her creators wouldn't respond, they normally do by now. Backing up a little she slammed her entire life force into the barrier once, twice, three times before the barrier completely shattered like glass. Her momentum sent her hurtling down into a painful abyss of nothingness. She called out for her creators' life forces only for emptiness to return. Complete emptiness filled her spark, save tiny little bit. The emptiness was soon filled with burning, stabbing loneliness; she dragged her life force back into her own being as quickly as she could. Her clicks and cries of distress soon turned into ones of despair and pain.

The yellow mech removed his hand and picked her up being mindful of her tiny wing nubs. He held her to his chest; she listened to his steady sparkbeats as she tried to reach out to her creators again. She hovered at the edge of the abyss and projected her being towards her creators' side of the bond, over the abyss. She expected love, comfort and the promise of protection to come back to her. It never came. Instead, a heavy wave of the painful loneliness and emptiness shook her very being causing her to flinch in the medics arms. By now tears were streaming down her face plates. She tried once more to connect to her creators, only to receive the same wave of empty. She retreated to the safety of her own spark before daring to check the other path that lead away from it; another bond. She cautiously moved down it until she met another barrier much like the one before, only softer and more … lively. The femme-ling gently nudged against the softer barrier and waited for a response. She felt a tiny amount of confusion come from the other side of the 'wall'. She pushed against it a little harder. The barrier slid down suddenly, she felt the other life force that had been behind the barrier circle her a couple of times, nudging and poking her as it went. All the while she felt confusion, curiousness, frustration, annoyance and a whole other array of emotions coming off this new life force she was connected to. The other being circled her a few more times, quicker than previously before shooting off back to its side and erected the barrier between them; stronger and more solid than before. She flinched back in shock at the sudden movement.

The young Cybertronian nudged the wall hesitantly, unsure why the other would shut her out with so much force. When she didn't get a response she hit the barrier harder. She hadn't expected the other being to lash out at her with anger and agitation. She backed away from the other being as quickly as she could. Rejection swirled in her spark in that small section that hadn't been affected by the loneliness. Both the rejection and loneliness shattered the thin wall that kept them from each other. They mixed forming a crippling constant pain in her chassis, eating away at her from inside out. She felt weightless and non-existent, she had nothing to live for; her creators were deactivated, the mystery relative completely rejected her and now she was now held captive by the Blue-optics, who, no doubt, had deactivated her creators and were now coddling and cooing to her just to spite her.

With a low and long whine she tried to shut down her systems permanently. But of course the medic that held her would try and prevent her from doing that. She watched him attach _something _to her and seconds later a huge wave of drowsiness hit her. The femmes optics dimmed for a second, they lit up not as bright for a few seconds, looking around in a somewhat confused way, before fully dimming. All that could be heard in the run-down warehouse was the quiet humming of systems as the older Cybertronians figuratively held their breath.

* * *

The warehouse was located on the outskirts of Mission City and was to serve as a temporary base until a more suitable place was found for the Autobots it wasn't huge but it was big enough for Optimus to stand comfortably in the middle. Lined against one of the lightly rusted walls were several shipping containers of various colours and companies. A few of them had been moved into a more central position to serve as a medical berth for Ratchet to work with. Windows streaming in the dimming light were placed high upon the walls, artificial lights dotted over the ceiling. The grey concrete floor was stained different colours, whether it be from oil or dirt. Outside passing traffic could be heard and the occasional bird. They had moved there once Mission City was adequately cleaned up and all immediate negotiations had been sorted. They would be staying in the warehouse for a maximum of a few weeks before being, ideally, moved to a larger and more isolated location. The military had made sure to try to deter civilians from the building by putting up wire fences in the nearby alleyways.

Once the humans had left the warehouse for the day Ratchet finally got to look at the escape pod. There wasn't must more he could do for his fellow Autobots with his current equipment, but with time their self-repair systems will finish off what he could not do. With the help of Optimus, Ratchet moved several of the shipping containers to the far end of the building. Two of the containers were placed side by side lengthways from the wall, while the third was laid on its side on top of the other two containers to form a crude table. He picked up the pod from Jazz, who was sitting up against the wall of containers resting; he had kept hold of the pod seeing as it was the most that he could do due to his injuries. Ratchet place the pod on the centre of the table; Decepticon insignia facing up. He gently pried the pod open reviling the young Cybertronian inside. Small pieces of silver armour covered the younglings frame, its helm smooth and flush against its protoform, as was the rest of its armour. Not surprising really, as most younglings amour remained plain until a final design was chosen.

Ratchet gently lifted the youngling out of the pod and placed it down onto the shipping container table. He slid the empty pod over to the side, out of the way, and began a basic scan on the youngling. A thin green light beamed out of Ratchets arm and shifted up and down the young Cybertronian, collecting data as it went. After several minutes all data possible from the small scan was collected and appeared on Ratchets HUD.

_**General Information**_

**Gender – **_**Femme**_

**Frame type – **_**Unknown … Suggestion Y/N**_**  
****Yes****…  
**_**….Possibility – Praxian - 65% chance  
….Possibility – Seeker - 15% chance  
….Possibility – OTHER - 20% chance**_

**Age – **_**5-7 Vorns **_

_**Systems - Software**_

**Virus scan – **_**clear**_

**Antivirus software – **_**Version 6.87.9 – OUT OF DATE …. UPDATE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE**_

**Base Programming – **_**Decepticon origin …. Expand properties Y/N  
**_**Yes…  
**_**Properties of programming….  
….Basic levels of hostility towards those with Blue Optics  
….Basic levels of trust towards those with Red Optics  
….Hostile reaction to new situations  
….Rest of programming unreadable without further more advanced analysing….**_

_**Systems - Hardware**_

**Main organs – **_**89% Functional ... Energon and rest required to become fully functional**_

**External structure – **_**100% Functional**_

**Optical sensors – **_**100% Functional**_

**Motor functions – **_**93% Functional …. Energon and rest required to become fully functional**_

**Auditory sensors – **_**100% Functional**_

**Communication Systems – **_**50% Functional …. Com. Link system not present**_

**Spark rate – **_**Normal**_

**Energon levels – **_**Main tank-0% …. Reserve tank-8% …. Critical levels…. REFUEL IMMEDIATELY!**_

**Energy levels – **_**15% **_

**Overall results – **_**78.14% Functional **_

While Ratchet had been analysing the scans results Optimus and Ironhide had wandered over while they had been discussing what their next move should be in the greater scheme of things. Ratchet looked up from the youngling as they approached.

"So this is the young one you were talking about then Ironhide." The Prime stated as he got a closer look at the much smaller frame. "How is it faring Ratchet?" He asked looking up towards the medic.

"Most of her systems are fully functional and aside from low energon levels, we have a little healthy femme-ling door-winger. Ah, look she's beginning to come online."

They watched as the little femme began to stretch out her limbs out to her sides and wiggle about a little before her optics came online. Her red optics widened when she spied the three of them in front of her. Servos with sharp tips began swiping wildly through the air in the Autobots general direction.

She then shouted out in one of Cybertons many tongues. Ratchet, having worked in medical centres throughout most of Cybertron, thus having to learn at least the basics of each different dialect, was able to pick up a little of what the youngling was shouting at them. He was able to pick up two words, 'away' and 'me', and by the tone he would imagine that the youngling was trying to ward them off. As Ratchet went to gently hold the flailing limbs to try and calm the little femme down before she caused any serious damage to herself, said femme began to click and squeal looking from side to side. The panicked clicks quickly died down only to be replaced with low cries of misery and agony. Her whole body went limp as she stared into space, completely oblivious to what was happening about her.

By now Optimus and Ironhide had slowly backup a little leaving the medic to try and calm the youngling. Ratchet carefully lifted the young femme into his arm holding her over where his spark was. There was no doubt about it that the youngling was trying to reach her creators and judging by her reaction they were gone. Orphaned because of the war, like so many other sparklings and younglings had been back on Cybertron, there just was no end to it. He held her there making low hushing noises trying to remind her that she wasn't alone; that she had someone there for her in her time of need. A tiny servo clung to one of the seams in his chest armour and coolant began to gather in the little ones optics before steadily streaming down her faceplates. After a few minutes of her just lying there, the femme gave out a long pitiful sounding whine. Ratchet instantly recognised that tone of sound. It was the sound those who had nothing left often emitted; those who had lost all they had to live for; those who lost everything they ever held dear to them; it was the sound of giving up for good. And there was no way in Pit he was going to let this young life give up before she had even begun to live.

Little red optics watched as Ratchet pulled out a low-strength stasis patch from subspace. The patch then was attached to an exposed fuel line in the femmes' neck, where it then integrated with her body quickly sending her already exhausted body into a light stasis. After a few seconds of the patch being attached, the femme-ling was sound asleep, so to say.

* * *

When she woke up she felt hunger shoot throughout her body, she opened her optics and gave a quick look around noticing the blue-optics had gone away from her immediate area. The yellow one who had held her was with a silver one talking. The silver one seemed to have noticed her and said something to the yellow medic, who then looked up at her and began moving over towards her. She immediately sat up and glared at the approaching mech, who just chuckled at the glare. When he was within reaching distance she bared her sharp teeth and hissed, her clawed servos digging into the surface of the table and armour panels flaring up. He seemed to have heeded her warning and backed up a little. Y_es be scared of me, stupid blue optic._ The silver one said something to the yellow medic and the yellow one nodded while responding to the silver one. She watched as the silver one slowly got up holding onto the containers as he went and then suddenly his visor just…_changed colour_… Why did the silver ones visor go from blue to red? Was he really a red optic-er or was it some sort of blue optic trick?

She fluffed up her armour and watched carefully as he got closer; it wouldn't do well to fully threaten him if he really was a red optic. The silver one stopped at the edge of the platform she was on, he didn't make any moves to touch her or anything which is good. Maybe he was a red optic-er. She un-fluffed her armour and watched the silver one as he watched her. A slight smile broke across the silver ones faceplates when she had finally began to relax in his presence. Strange mech. With very ungraceful jerks and a few grunts of pain, the still smiling silver one knelt down so he was at eye level with her.

"**Hey there lil' 'un. Mah designation is Jazz, are ya' gonna' tell meh yours?" **

She had never heard the language the silver one – no, Jazz – had spoken to her, but it was extremely similar to her own just the pronunciation of the words were different. She looked at him directly in the optics, well where his optics would be anyway, for what must have been at least a minute or so before she answered.

"_**No." **_

Jazz's expression seemed to fall for a few seconds with an awkward 'eh heh' before the _almost _infectious smile was plastered on his faceplates again.

"**Ya' know mah buddy Ratch ain't gonna' hurt ya right?" **He asked waving one of his arms in the vague direction of the yellow medic 'Ratch'. She continued to stare down the silver mech, narrowing her little red optics a little.

"_**So?" **_She challenged. As if she was just going to start trusting the blue-optic just 'cause this strange red-optic says so. Jazz's smile seemed a little strained now she noticed.

"**He just wants ta help ya', alrigh'. Just wants to give ya' some energon and make sure ya' healthy an' all." **Jazz ran a servo over his faceplates; he looked over his shoulder and shouted something at Ratch, who slowly came over. Once again, she fully fluffed up her armour and began to hiss lowly, all attention focused on keeping Ratch away.

"**Eh, eh, eh. Bad femme. No. We do not hiss at the medic." **A silver claw-like digit came out of nowhere bopping her lightly on the nose plates, completely destroying the intense focus she had on Ratch. She tried to bite the offending digit, only to be bopped on the nose and scolded again. Annoyed she scooted backwards so she was out of Jazz's arm range. That was all good until Ratch had finally made it over and scooped her up in his arms trying to cradle her in the crook on one of his arms. Oh it is on, there is no way this blue-optic can just waltz over here and place her in one of the most humiliating (and unthreatening) positions possible, and there is no way she was going to comply with this. The young Cybertronian wriggled and squirmed to try to get out of Ratch's grip; she was ready to use her claws if she must, though she didn't really want to get energon all over her nice clean claws.

The medic finally gave in and placed the femme back onto the table, and held out a cube of low-grade energon from his subspace pocket he had been intending to feed her with. Said femme moved back towards them and quickly snatched the cube out of Ratchets servo and spun around so her back faced the two mechs. With her thumb she was able to pierce a hole into the top of the cube; she lifted it up and began to guzzle it down trying to alleviate the hunger pangs that had been shooting through her body again ever since she saw Ratch bring the cube of energon out. It was all good until it just stopped coming out, she opened her optics, that she had not notice close, and looked up at the empty cube she held. She left out a grumble of annoyance and threw the empty cube off to the side. She was still hungry, how didn't she notice that she was this hungry in the first place? It felt like she was running on fumes! Ratch was going to give her another cube right? Or at least Jazz would, he'd been nice and friendly to her… whereas she hadn't really been. Maybe if she apologised they would she that she really is a good little femme that deserves to be fed. With that she turned back around to face Jazz and Ratch, who had been quietly conversing with each other.

"_**I'm sorry."**_ She said quietly as she looked down and fiddled with her servos, picking at one of the seams in the plating covering her digits.

"**Aww, what cha' sorry 'bout?" **

"_**I wasn't very nice and now you won't give me anymore energon." **_She looked up to see Jazz saying something to Ratch. Ratch then acquired another cube from his subspace and held it out in front of the femme. This time, however, she gently and slowly took it from his servo and placed in her lap and uttered a word of thanks. Ratchet replied with 'you're very welcome', well not without a bit of help from Jazz in how to actually say it properly. The little femme giggled as she watched the impromptu language lesson the simple guidance had turned into, and while she did so she worked on getting the cube open with her thumb. After finally breaching the cube she began draining it of its contents, enjoying each mouthful as it came and went.

She had made her way through two more cubes before she was completely full. She collapsed onto her back giving out a whistle or two in complaint of her achy full tank. She felt sleepy, how could she be feeling sleepy? She's hardly been awake. Maybe she could just close her optics for a few minutes, yeah; Jazz will make sure none of the blue-optics do anything to her while she had a quick snooze.

She woke up to the feeling of being lifted, she peeked open her optics and saw Jazz gathering her up in his arms and behind his was Ratch scowling a little. She looked up at Jazz with sleepy optics noticing how warm and comfy he actually was. Yes, she could live with this. Maybe blue-optics aren't _so _bad, at least Ratch isn't bad. She shifted around a little in Jazz's arms until she was in a comfortable position and fell back asleep.

* * *

**A simple explanation of the whole 'different but similar language' thing going on, is that the two language are essentially the same one just they're pronounced almost completely different. It's like comparing how Americans say things to how the British say things, simple really. **

**I do hope you enjoyed reading, constructive criticism would be brilliant. I hope I got the characters in character, especially Jazz considering I'm having to refer to G1 episodes to try and get his personality right (Because _someone _thought it would be a good idea to kill him off...)**

**Anyway, until next the next chapter... Whenever that'll be. **


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